


Lilla skatt

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Ivar x Ylva [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, dad!Ivar, keeping promises one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: The first one shot from my 800 follower celebration over on tumblr. Requested by brightlycoloredteacups, who gave me free reins.Let’s say that things work out for Ivar and Ylva; what might their life together look like 4-5 years after the end of Keeping promises?





	Lilla skatt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brightlycoloredteacups](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlycoloredteacups/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Keeping promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490925) by [Ivartheboneme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme). 



> Skatt - Treasure  
> Lilla skatt - Little treasure  
> Hjärtat - Darling (literal translation "The heart")  
> Älskade - Beloved  
> Skatten min - Treasure of mine

“Faster, papa, faster!” The girl shouts, clinging to his arm as the chariot makes its way towards the stable just outside Kattegatt’s centre. In spite of her pleas, and the oncoming rain that’s threatening to soak them, Ivar keeps the horse at just under a trot. The girl sulks at his refusal but Ivar only smiles at her angry murmuring as she nestles closer under his fur cloak. They come to a halt outside the open stable doors and Ivar loosens his grip on the reins. He wraps one arm around the girl, lifting her up from in front of him and then turning in his seat.

“Go on, go fetch Vik.” He sets her down at the back of the chariot and she leaps to the ground. While she disappears into the stable Ivar finds his crutches and climbs out of the chariot. He props himself up on them, moving carefully on the wet ground. Combing through the horse’s mane he finds it tangled and Ivar thinks to himself that he should return later to brush it. Maybe bring her a carrot or two. They’ve been through their share of battles together but now it’s retired, used almost exclusively for pulling the chariot when he has Ylva or his skatt with him. He can find a new war horse but he can’t find another creature that is reliable enough to carry his wife and child. The white mare is, in his opinion, favoured by the gods. Vik appears at the door and Ivar gives the horse one last pat before letting the boy detach her from the chariot and lead her inside. His skatt is back at his side, tugging at the cloak.

“Can we go again after dinner? Properly this time.” He knows what she means by properly: Faster.

“After dinner it’s time for your bath and then bed.” Ivar answers. He can't bring himself to use the word  _ no _ whenever speaking with her; every time he denies her something his heart twists with guilt; what’s worse is that the girl knows how to use it against him.

“But I want to go faster, so the mud flies everywhere,” she pouts while fiddling with a corner of the fur “You do it all the time, papa.”

“Not when I have you with me, lilla skatt.” He says.

“Your father’s right,” Ubbe comes from around the corner, his 2-year old son ambling along next to him, and the girl lights up “he used to be much more reckless.” Ubbe juggles two apples in his hands, pausing to lean against the wall. 

“Has my baby brother the king grown soft?” Ubbe asks teasingly then takes a bite from one of the apples. Ivar feels her tense next to him, eyes locked on the other apple in her uncle’s hands. Ubbe notices too.

“Want one, hjärtat?” He says with a grin, crouching down and holding it out. Ivar swats at his hand with one of the crutches. 

“We’re having dinner.” He says firmly when both his brother and daughter glare at him. Ubbe sighs but puts the apple back in his pocket. Leaning down, he scoops up the giggling boy that is now studying a large pebble while talking to himself.

“Will you join us?” Ivar asks, ruffling the dark mop covering his daughter’s head.

“Just need to go shake Hvitserk awake first. He’s passed out on top of-” Ivar clears his throat in warning, lifting one pointer finger from his crutch to point at the girl.

“On top of his furs.” Ubbe finishes instead.

 

 

As soon as the door is opened, his skatt barrels towards the table where Ylva is already sitting.

“Mama, I got to ride in the chariot!” She settles in her mother’s lap, her side resting against the swell where a sister or brother is growing.

“Did you have fun?” Ylva asks, brushing away the child’s dark hair so that she can place a kiss on her forehead. 

“Mhm. But he went so slow.” She complains. Ivar rolls his eyes and takes the seat next to Ylva.

“Of course he did. He’s never had a skatt like you in the chariot.” The girl huffs at her mother’s words, wriggling out of Ylva’s grip again. Ivar leans in to give his wife a kiss, sliding a palm over her rounded stomach.

“Is our little one behaving?”

“At the moment, yes.” The door opens again and Ivar’s brothers enter, accompanied by Margrethe and their two sons.

“How long until I get a brother or sister?” The girl asks from her own seat.

“Just two more months, min skatt.” Ivar says, helping the girl fill her plate now that the guests have arrived.

 

 

“Älskade, sit down and eat.” Ylva begs. The girl doesn’t listen; it’s far more fun making faces at her baby cousins at the other side of the table. Hearing the exhaustion in his wife’s voice, Ivar intervenes.

“Listen to your mother, lilla skatt. Eat up.”

“Or what?” She demands. Ivar cocks his head to the side..

“Or I will eat you up.” He warns. Her eyes glitter. Not a second later she lunges out of the chair and takes off running. Ivar drops from his chair, growling as he crawls after her. Her feet patter against the floor as she heads for the main door. It is closed and even as she jumps she can’t reach high enough to open it. Ivar closes in on her, growling even louder. She squeals and rushes past him, just out of reach. The girl goes for the corridor instead, the one leading back to the bedchambers, only to find that Ubbe is blocking it. Her uncle reaches for her, giving up the same growling noises as Ivar. Letting out a shriek that’s half-terror half-joy she runs for the safety of Ylva’s arms, not noticing that her father has crept under the table and is waiting for her. Ivar rushes forward and this time there’s no escape. He pulls her down on top of him, securing her under one arm while his free hand gently wraps around her wrist.

“Mmm, fresh meat.” He says, licking his lips.

“No, papa!” She shrieks as he begins guiding her arm to his open mouth. Everyone laughs as Ivar beings to ‘nibble’ at her, all the while smacking his lips and growling. Eventually, he releases her arm and sits up.

“Eat up. Papa needs to rest before helping you clean up.” The girl groans but does as she’s told, dragging her feet as she heads back to her seat. Ivar pulls himself up to next to Ylva again. His skatt is sulking, reluctantly chewing and swallowing the food, and his heart twists painfully.

“Skatten min.” Ivar says softly. She looks up from under the messy halo of hair, green eyes finding his blue ones. Ivar smiles at her and soon she smiles back. 


End file.
